Mists of Time
by Mrriddler
Summary: AU basically. Harry has been betrayed and time travels to discover the world of King Arthur. Troubled and torn, fate sets Harry about on a course of action that may define the future that he came from. Tragic HHrR triangle. One shot.


**Disclaimer: _I do not claim ownership or rights of Harry Potter or Mists of Avalon or any of cannon characters, themes, or storyline within this story. _**

************************************************************************ 

**Mists of Time **

By Mrriddler

_2 time, the past and the future collide. One born Harry James Potter will find that his actions in both the past and future of time will have the greatest impacts and define the very existence of the magical society. _

**_An epic tale (one shot as of yet) about unrequited love, betrayals, unbearable sufferings and tragedies and triumphs that breach time and space. Plot includes completely original take on the legend of Arthur partially based on the_** Mists of Avalon **_including characters Morgan (Morgaine), Sir Lancelot (Galahad) and Queen Guinevere, (Gwenhwyfar). End also includes a bit of history that ties in Godric Gryffindor to Arthur's times and Harry._**

Pairings include unrequited H/Hr, R/Hr, unrequited Morgan/Lancelot, and Lancelot/Guinevere and see the birth of what became modern magical Britain thousands of years ago. 

This is **NOT** related **AT ALL** to my other story, **_Harry Potter and the Rebirth of Salazar Slytherin._**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Added note: Mist of Avalon includes a series of complex, confusing and perhaps even disturbing love conflicts and sexual tensions. I.e. there is incest, rape...etc. (very much like a soap opera of sorts). To make the story a bit less sexually uninhibited and depressing and since the entire legend of Arthur is so subjective, for those who are interested key features/changes are as follow:

- Morgan did **_not_** engage in incestuous activities with her brother Arthur. Hence, there's no Mordred. The whole thing was not real and designed to discredit and humiliate the sorceress. (A popular theme, though research might suggest that old texts portrayed the lecherous Morgause half sister/sister of Morgan as the one who bedded Arthur, in order to use against the High King.)

- Lancelot did not marry Elaine, daughter of King Pellinore. 

- In general, if you read Mists of Avalon or any of the non romanticized King Arthur legends, I essentially romanticized much of everything. Hope you enjoy it!

************************************************************************ 

The former High Queen Quinevere, wife of King Arthur walked solemnly along. The sober church bells sounded through out the Island of the Priests here on Glastonbury. Not a day has gone past that the fair lady has not reflected on what has come to pass and what will be. It was not too long ago when the once virtuous and pious High Queen's scandalous affair with Lancelot, her husband's closest companion was discovered. Though the couple made the greatest sacrifice – separation – the inevitable course of events was already taking place. Arthur's great dynasty of achievements and triumphs unraveled, his companions pitted against each other and dissipated. 

She knew not where her love, Sir Lancelot, is presently and news was brought forth not long ago that Arthur lies died at Avalon just beyond the mists right here on the Isle of the Priests. 

A chilly breeze blew over her. The lady raised her head and looked around fearfully, muttering a prayer of thanks when nothing was found. 

**Harry Potter** or rather **Harold Sebastian Slytherin** stared at the remains of the once proud and elegant High Queen of Britain from the shadows. Vestiges of her beauty remained even as a haunted look circled in the woman's eyes. 

Where does the tragedy end? Where did it all begin? With her marriage to Arthur? With his presence in this time or perhaps with the events that transpired in the future thousands of years from now – _events to come that somehow led to events that was once past. Harold found his head swimming as he thought deeper and deeper. _

Perhaps it was better to start in the beginning...

He was once Harry James Potter, Boy Who Lived, hero savior...and then traitor, traitor by both circumstance and choice. He became his most hated enemy's primary ally and his best of friends' most hated enemy. Even now thousands of years from his own time, Harry still feels the dark mark burned deep within his skin. He knows not how and can only guess why, but somehow he was transported to the time of King Arthur... a time of war and turmoil. 

Aided by the powers of mystics and magic of Avalon, Arthur succeeded in driving the barbarians from he shores of Britain and unifying the nation...only for civil war between his knights (muggles) and followers of Avalon (magic users). Harold recalled:

FLASHBACK

"You swore to uphold to uphold the rights and sacredness of Avalon, brother! You can not undo what has been down." Morgan le Fay, the acclaimed Priestess of Avalon barely held in her anger as stood confronting King Arthur before al his Companions. 

"Just watch, sister." Retorted the king as he threw down the dragon battle banner, the banner of the Order of Avalon, and in turn his pledge of allegiance. Morgan looked on in horror scanning the towering figures of Arthur's Companions in turn and then settling on Arthur and his wife beside him. The High Queen scowled down upon the shorter fairy like woman. Morgan recalled the expression presently plastered on the beautify queen's face as an exact replica of the one she had given her that fateful day at the Isle of Avalon...when she took him away. 

Morgan looked over at Galahad. The towering figure leered downward with distaste. He called himself Lancelot now, having renounced his past and history... and of course her as well. 

_"...little and ugly...as one of the fairy folk."_ Though it had been Quinevere who had said the hurtful words in reality that fateful day, the voice that spoke it was distinctively that of Lancelot's. Morgan bit back her tears, willing herself to be cold, to ignore, to forget, to relinquish. 

Her companion however could not remain silent.

"Do you know what you have done?" Asked Harold, appalled and maybe even frightened. Sight of the demon known as Harold Sebastian Slytherin sparked several knights into action with brandished swords. Not to be toyed with, Harold flicked his hand and the charging men were thrown back. Arthur stared in amazement, prepared to draw his Excalibur. 

"That blade though powerful and seemingly of invulnerability was enchanted by Lady Morgan. I am her teacher and guide. Do you think I could not penetrate your protection, oh high king..." Taunted Harold with blazing eyes. Arthur hesitated before sheathing his sword.

"And what of you...Merlin of Britain?" Harold did not attempt to hide his scorn for what would be considered be the Father of Modern Magic. Yet, personal experience have dulled the great one's godly status before Harold. Indeed, the image and the realty of a hero are much different.

The Taliesin stood beside Arthur motionless, not bothering to meet the youth's eyes. The great and worldly wise man looked haggard and worn...and yes defeated. Despite the age discrepancies, it was Merlin who looked like a chastised child before the stern Harold. It was laughable had the situation been not so serious.

"Avalon, magic and its secret and powers must be kept alive in image and influence. Without the effects of Avalon and its people to balance the unnatural forces of magic, this land will succumb to darkness. Dark wizard after dark wizard shall pillage and ravage this land and the lands beyond unchecked! I have seen the FUTURE. Surely..." Harold's speech started softly but gradually raised in volume before Merlin stumped his staff impatiently. 

"ENOUGH!... the others have chosen to bare the consequences. There is nothing I can do." 

"NOTHING YOU COULD DO. Power is there to those who choose to seize and wield it. There is a time for words and another for action. This is a time for action. If you would not do what must be done, then I will." Power flared around Harold. Arthur and his Companions readied arms, but Merlin stopped them all. 

A burst of power dissipated Harry's gathered magic. The knights rushed the downed wizard. Before they can strike their opponents, however, they themselves were thrown back. Lancelot looked up, dazzled and saw the outstretched hand of a furious Morgan. 

"You dare harm us!" Morgan prepared to deal just punishment when Harold spoke up.

"We do not wish to harm you Morgan. Please believe me, but I will defend this court if I have to." Stated the elderly man confronting Morgan.

"No, wait! No, don't do it." Ordered Harold, now much calmer. The youth shot a look of understanding at Merlin. Despite possessing enough power and strength to actually defeat the greatest wizard, sorcerer, mage, what have you, in human magical history, Harold can still be amazed at times by the man's infinite wisdom.

"If is not Merlin's place to contest the High King's wishes, then it shall not be mine either." Agreed Harold in defeat. He couldn't take it upon himself to change the course of history. He tried to make it better...but he could and would not play god. At least not here, not now

Arthur nodded in relief as did his Companions. No matter how ridiculous it seems that a youth of 20 if not less should command their attention, they knew enough that this boy had the power to destroy them and wisely chose not to provoke him further. 

Once, Harold completely withdrew his powers, the boy turned his eyes upon the High Queen, who looked vividly shock and disturbed but somehow remained composed. The woman hid slightly behind her husband and the others, knowing that above all others, she drew the wrath of those of Avalon and its magical supporters. It was she, who forced Arthur, Lancelot and others to caste aside their allegiance to Avalon.

Harold surveyed the innocent and naïve face. In her mind, she only was fulfilling her obligation, of taming the land of heathens and sinners including all followers of the "pagan religion of Avalon" as it was called. Harold found his hatred for the High Queen's existence fading. If he still detests her, it is for the human stupidity that exists in her, no different from his own self hatred of his stupidities in his past.

"_It is said that behind every powerful man, there lies a even more powerful woman. You turned Arthur when no sword and man could... for better or for worse. Perhaps it is one of the female psyches that despite my powers I shall never decipher_." Said Harold. It was a half compliment mixed with a humor which the men chuckled at.

"Then there is nothing we can do. Nothing we can do to save Avalon and its magic." Whispered Morgan softly as if in a daze. 

"Come, Morgan, we should leave." Stated Harold, shaking Morgan gently on the shoulder. 

"NO!!!" Morgan roughly shook the teen and her teacher off startling even Harold. 

"You caused all this!" Accused Morgan glaring at Quinevere. A frantic look of uncertain fear clawing at her heart. Indeed, the high queen has taken everything, her love...Morgan turns to Galahad... her brother...Morgan turns to Arthur...and now the very basis of her existence, magic and Avalon. And she did all this while looking down upon her with scorn. 

The frantic look disappeared replaced by one of determination. Morgan tilted her head to give her teacher a message filled look. 

"..._a powerful wizard once told me that those with great magical powers have not only the privilege but the divine right to rule over their lesser, the muggles or the non-magical people as they were called_... _he claimed_ _why must we endure the suffering of the weak minded and serve them when it is us they should serve_..." Harold's voice echoed in Morgan's mind. Indeed, why must she suffer. For once let others, let the holy and pious Quinevere suffer... 

"You will pay, you will pay _dearly." Before Harold could stop her, Morgan disappeared or rather disapparated. A pained look crossed his face as he looked around at the room with its members in various degrees of shock and bewilderment. The High Queen in particular looked visibly pale, having been certain of who Morgan was referring to in her threat._

Having been Morgan's magical tutor, Harold knew the mind set and course of action Morgan would take. He knew before the messenger even came in that the old people of Avalon, wizards and witches have withdrawn from Arthur's army and declared sovereign under Morgan. 

After all, Harold went through a similar experience. Harold bit the High King and Merlin of Britain a cool goodbye before leaving, without answering any of the questions that no doubt existed in their minds. 

Harold pondered about what is to happen. Morgan would probably wage war upon her brother and Merlin and Harold is caught in the middle. Had it been years ago, when he had first arrived in Avalon in this time, he would not have hesitated in exacting vengeance or for the simple sake of usurping the High King's power. Harold had been at the height of his dark powers in his own world. But, that was then. Harold alternated between the times of Arthur and his own many times - for unknown reasons. But, each time, his actions and beliefs were changed by the events that happened in his own time. And hence, Harold no longer shared the exact same views that his past self and Morgan hold. And yet, for what Morgan is doing and is to do -as she believes she has every right to do - Harold must bare partial responsibility for influencing his pupil.

END FLASHBACK

"My lady..." Harold called out finally from the shadows. The former High Queen spun around to face a face she has not seen in such a long time. 

"Lord Slytherin, you have returned back to our time? I fear that you might have been gone for good..." Asked Quinevere with cheer as she rushed to hug the younger man, now appearing in his mid to late 20s. 

"Alas, I have just returned. All is... as well as anything is possible I suppose." Commented Harold as casually as possible. 

"Come, you must keep me company for a bit. God forgive me for saying this, but life is so dull here." Harold maneuvered Quinevere and himself to one of the secluded benches. 

"How is Morgan? And Avalon?" 

"She is well. And Avalon is soon to be vacated, its secrets sealed. Soon, there will be few who can go forth into it or know of it." It was strange for the woman to utter so casually about magic and Avalon, words of blasphemy she once evaded like the plague. Harold's response prompted Quinevere a chocked sob. The older woman settled her head against the younger teen's shoulder. 

"Oh... some days I have wished that you or Morgan could have struck me down in anger. I envy Morgan and her courage. Despite everything, she still strives for this flawed world we live in...I am sorry." Apologized the queen after shedding her tears. She pulled herself up like flushed child. 

"Do not worry. Despite my appearance I should be older than you. As for your death... Alas it was not your fate to die, my lady, even if that would have been kinder for you." Stated Harold. Of all the people, Quinevere was perhaps the most changed. No longer the naïve, more pious than reasonable child. Harold pondered back to fateful moments in time: 

FLASHBACK

Queen Quinevere clutched tightly around the wrist of her lover, resting her shaking head and heavy eyes on the back of the rider. It happened all so quickly from the discovery of Lancelot in her bed to their escape. They had hastened to escape without proper attire for the cold weather. The icy wind bit into her face, but it seemed such a long time ago when the High Queen had cared for luxury and comfort.

"Gwen... are you alright, love?" The gentle sound of Lancelot's voice shook Guinevere awake. 

"I am fine, but what are we to do?" Quinevere could not keep the fear out of her voice and Lancelot could not offer any encouraging words. Just then, a swarm of knights in dark armor charged from hidden emplacement. It was by Lancelot's skill and luck that the rider and lady dodged the swinging swords and spears and remained seated. 

As Lancelot took off the knights gave chase. Lancelot was the finest horseman of the land and even so the dark knights drew closer and closer. It must be sorcery. They must have the aide of the dark mages, those who are not just enemies of Arthur but also of Avalon. Just as the enemy was upon them and Lancelot and Quinevere all but forfeited their lives to the cold blade, the rider grunted as something hit him from behind and tumbled off from his saddle. 

Both Lancelot and Quinevere dared a backward look and saw to their amazement another rider attacking the pursuing dark knights. Using a combination of sorcery and physical weaponry, the mysterious rider was winning, even being outnumbered 10 to 1. Soon all the dark knights were knocked down and the mysterious rider rode up. 

Astounded by this mysterious knight's performance, Lancelot wheeled his horse around to offer his congratulations and thanks. Never had he seen such performance even if it was sorcery, but who was he to judge. After all he was son of the once Lady of the Lake and no holy and pious than any other true magical followers of Avalon. 

But as the rider galloped over, one of the fallen knights leaped up and threw forth a blunt dagger. Lancelot briefly heard a shout of warning from his queen. The outburst caused the rider's body to turn at an angle so the dagger impacted on the shoulder rather than through the heart. The shock of the impact was enough, however to sent the rider tumbling on the ground. 

The attacker then stood and prepared to strike down his enemy. 

"Pyro!" The mysterious rider, undoubtedly a sorcerer of sort sent forth a ball of flame. The knight screamed in agony as the fire burned him armor and flesh, banishing him to a fiery death.

Lancelot leapt from his horse, helping Quinevere down before rushing to their wounded savior. The rider was dressed in some sort of strange cloak, face covered with a hood, like a sorcerer - not too different from the dark wizards that have started terrorizing the land - but that did not stop Lancelot from aiding his rescuer. 

It was by complete accident what happened afterwards. As Lancelot led his somewhat reluctant savior to the horse, a wind tossed the hood back revealing a flash of long black raven hair. 

"MORGAINE!" Lancelot recoiled in shock and Morgan fell face down with a grunt. The woman led out a gasp of pain as her wounded shoulder hit the ground. Quinevere quickly rushed forward even as Lancelot remained dazed. Morgan allowed herself to be pulled up, but could not hide the look of hurt and extreme pain from Lancelot's sudden repulsion. 

_"...he cares for none but his queen..._" Quinevere gasped as she heard Morgan's bitter words within herself directed at Lancelot. Yet, the words were soft like an echo from the heart which in past days Quinevere would have dismissed as rubbish. 

The former High Queen dared a quick glance to check for sure that the words weren't spoken. No, they weren't, Morgan remained muted even as anguish radiated from her. So, oh so pious Quinevere indeed had traces of those strange mystical powers , powers of witchcraft. No wonder she had passed through the mist at Glastonbury to arrive in Avalon... where she met Lancelot for the first time. Does she regret it, that she is led into this life of sin? No of course not, what was it that Lord Slytherin said "..._the heart wishes for what it must..." A small smile appeared across Quinevere's face. Yet, moments later as she returned her eyes to Morgan, a sense of self loathing entered her heart. _

It now dawned without a doubt that Morgan was as much in love with Lancelot as she was with him. And despite all her own hatred and spiteful acts to the woman, the torn woman had respected her and loved her as much as she humanly could... oh curse her stupidity. The moral sins of society that used to plague her seemed insignificant to this atrocious sin against a fellow human being and a kinswoman.

Surprising Morgan and Lancelot, Quinevere threw herself tearfully onto her sister in law. Morgan could only pet the woman in astonishment while listening between her sobs about various mutterings of apologies and her begging for forgiveness. Very soon, after tending to Morgan's wound, the couple began chatting with Morgan like fast friends. Of course, the trio became so engrossed in catching up and amending former pains that none failed to notice shadows creeping around them. 

It was Morgan who finally felt a cold shiver through her bones and suddenly pushed her companions onto the ground. She clutched the nearest sword she could find. Wandlessly she added a piercing spell on the blade's edge and swung it in a wide circle decapitating dark knight that was poised to strike down Lancelot. 

Suddenly, dozens of dark forms swarmed around the trio, cutting them off from their horses or any avenue of escape. Morgan and Lancelot might be able to hold their own, but they couldn't possibly defend the vulnerable Quinevere as well. Lancelot tired to convince Morgan to flee, to save herself but the powerful sorceress refused. She vowed to correct and amend the wrongs she did to Lancelot and Quinevere even if it would cost her her life. 

"We just need to hold out until Lord Slytherin or Merlin arrives. He knows if I would be in trouble." Morgan tried to convince her companions that her powerful teacher, Lord Slytherin would come to her and their rescue, as he sometimes did in the past but that seemed unlikely. He was presently assisting Arthur under plea from the High King and Merlin on the other side of Britain. 

Their doom seemed all but certain and immanent, but all of sudden a giant winged beast crashed amidst the mass of black knights. It was the most unusual but fascinating, beautiful and yet terrifying creature they had ever laid eyes on. It was a giant beast with the body of a lion with wings attached. Morgan recalled it that it was called a griffin. Yet, this creature seemed much different than the picture of the griffin Harold had showed her.  Indeed, this creature was much larger and majestic with gold and red feathers interwoven into each other. The gold made the creature shine like a star and the red gave it a menacing look and possibly also hid the blood stains when it made a killing.

The dark knights were at first astounded, but surprise and shock gave way to terror and fear as the creature started knocking and tossing them aside like twigs. It seemed even imperious to the swords and weapons. The creature led out a horrific roar and the dark knights dropped all pretext of bravery and scurried away like frightened rats. 

Slowly, the creature advanced towards the trio. Lancelot drew his sword, but Morgan stopped him. Something about the animal seemed familiar. Morgan took a chance and over protests from both Lancelot and Quinevere walked before the mighty beast. The griffin peeled down at the woman, his giant green eyes sparkling in hidden amusement. Morgan allowed herself a sigh of relief.

"Hello, my Lord Slytherin." Lancelot and Quinevere face faulted. 

"WHAT!" As answer to their disbelief, the creature transformed right before their eyes into the figure of Harold Sebastian Slytherin. The smile remained plastered on his face. 

"I thought you could use some help, my lady and of course, Sir Lancelot, Queen Quinevere." Harold acknowledged the two a bit hesitantly as if unsure whether to treat them with respect or disdain. He turned to Morgan for guidance on how to treat her enemies. Seeing her bittersweet smile, Harold settled for a sigh and then a small knowing smile. 

"I see all is well." Seeing Lancelot's and Quinevere's looks of despair, Harold added with some cheerfulness. "Worry not, there is an old saying where I live. '_All's well that ends' well.'_"

"How can this possibly end well, my lord? What is more, how did you find us? What was that creature? And why did you or Morgan aid us? Not that I am not grateful, but you seemed to hate..." 

Harold held up a hand. 

"I understand perfectly. I will try to answer each question as thoroughly as I can. As you know, I am a powerful wizard, and if I may brag myself, more so than even Merlin. I also have a sort of telepathic connection with Morgan so I can sense when she's in danger. As for that creature you saw... you see, I am an animagus, an animal shifter so to speak. I can morph into the shapes and take the abilities and skills of certain animals." 

"Was it not a griffin? I believe you showed me a picture of one." Interjected Morgan with avid interest. 

"You are correct, Lady Morgan, but that was actually a special form of a griffin. It if called a Golden Griffin or a Griffin of Gold or even **Griffin d'Or** (*hint*, *hint*) as it is known in another language."  

"It was beautiful..." Whispered Quinevere, still enthralled by the image of the gold and red creature.

"As for us *hating* you, well, when you think about it, how could I not. You were never disrespectful but  you were very haughty, contemptible. You out rightly rejected what you did not know. You swore and cursed what you feared, which were magic and us in general. But I have been condemned before so I could really have cared less what you think of me. Besides... ultimately it would not be my forgiveness you should seek... I did not try to help you while being spit at..." Harry turned to look at Morgan. 

"Morgan...I am sorry..." Started Lancelot, but the raven haired woman put her hand up. 

"Now's not the time, nor the place..." _Besides, I doubt I could hold my peace... Morgan leapt back onto her horse. _

"Besides, I was irrational in what I said that day at my brother's court. I allowed my anger and powers to dominate me."

A slight pause. 

"We should make haste. Undoubtedly more dark knights are already on their way." Morgan reverted back to her cold, expressionless demeanor as she took off.

Lancelot and Quinevere said nothing as they mounted their stallion and followed. 

Harold sighed.

END FLASHBACK

"What happened to you and Lancelot?" Asked Harold. He had to return to war to aid Merlin and then had to return to his time, so he never found out what had happened to the two lovers. Of course, Harold had been surprised when he returned to learn Lancelot fled that that Quinevere had checked herself into a nunnery. 

Quinevere sighed.

"I suppose you refer to why have we not consummated our union?" Harold nodded. 

"How could we? How could Morgan forgive us if..." Started Quinevere. Harold let out an amused laugh. 

"Why do you mock me, Lord Slytherin?" Quinevere looked taken back and hurt.

"My apologies, my lady, I did not mean to be disrespectful. But, let me ask you this. Do you truly believe that Morgan is indeed happy that you and Lancelot are not together?" 

Quinevere wanted to say yes, but something in the back of her head made her stop. A confused frown spread across her face. 

"Why would she not?" It was not said with spite or malice but with genuine puzzlement. 

"Take my hand and close your eyes." Ordered Harold as he extended his hand. Quinevere seemed hesitant, part of her still feared the magical or dark side of Lord Slytherin. Reluctantly she did so and immediately felt herself being pulled through a mist of sorts. 

When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a strange new place. The cloister enclosure and temples of the priests were gone, but she was strangely familiar with this new place. She had first accidentally come here as a little girl when she met Lancelot and Morgan who helped her find her way back. It was the Isle of Avalon.

"Hello, Quinevere, long time no see." Stated Morgan softly. Quinevere let out a choked sob and rushed to hug her former enemy but now friend. The former High Queen had been so engrossed however in the woman that she didn't notice the man beside her...  
  
"Gwen..." Seconds later, Quinevere found herself swept off her feet and into the arms of her love. 

"Lancelot..." Quinevere bathed herself in the warmth of his embrace. As she looked around, she swore that she saw a small smile spread across Morgan and Harold's faces. 

"No..." Quinevere pushed Lancelot away shakily to the amazement of everyone else. 

"Ok, this charade of dancing around each other has got to end. Why can you not just accept your love for each other. Do you still think that accepting what you truly desire is more sinful than denying what is destined?" Stated Harold in an annoyed tone. He had thought that Quinevere was long over the sinful nature of her relationship with Lancelot. 

"No. In the honor of Arthur's memory, we couldn't do this especially when he's dead..." 

"That would not be true. Arthur confided in me before his death. He said that if it had been possible, he would have joyfully blessed your union...and so would I." Stated Morgan. Lancelot and Quinevere looked amazed. 

"I thought you loved..." Started Quinevere.

"I still _do_ love Lancelot. But, I realize that that love will never be reciprocated..." Morgan looked away as she said this.

"For a period of time, I was bitter, very bitter and bent on revenge. But Lord Slytherin managed to convince me that your pain and suffering will bring me neither joy nor happiness. In fact, it would only increase the pain..."

"How?" Asked Quinevere in confusion. Morgan looked at Harold.

"It's what in Harold's time would be called "unconditional love" I believe. I would rather him be happy with you, Quinevere, than unhappy alone." 

Lancelot was speechless, while Quinevere was dumbfounded by this line of reasoning as well as Morgan's kindness. 

"I wouldn't think too highly of me. I almost did set Lancelot up with Elaine, daughter of King Pellinore. I would have to if it wasn't for Lord Slytherin." Said Morgan.

Harold waved his hand as if dismissing it as if it was nothing.

"There's a saying that I always keep in the back of my mind when love becomes involved. _'tis easier to hate than to understand.'_" Said Harold. "I merely made Morgan understand." 

"But, how did you know? Not even Merlin would have been as wise."

"Merlin is wise in the ways of magic and the deities. I am wise in the ways of human beings... and I have learned them from painful lessons." Admitted Harold with a grimace. 

Harold recalled memories from what seemed like a previous life. He recalled the family and friends he had despite Voldemort...the joys, the happiness... and then all turned into pain and suffering and ultimately cold raw hatred because of their betrayal. 

All of them betrayed him, choosing to trust the words of others over him. And yet, despite his false conviction and stay at the dreaded Azkaban, he had been more than willing to accept his former friends to receive their apologizes and make amend with the past...

But nothing prepared him for what he saw.

FLASHBACK

Harry stared motionless at the sight before him. A look of horrified fascination remained spread across his face. A lightning struck in the distance followed by the bellow of a thunderbolt. Yet, Harry remained transfixed by the image that refused to leave his mind...

His girlfriend laying in the arms of his best friend...

Several more thunder struck and heavy rain came down like hail within seconds...and yet still Harry remained motionless. His best friend and girlfriend similarly remained fixated in their place...their arms around each other as if fearing that any movement would invoke the horrific wrath that dwelled within their friend. 

Harry lifted his head up allowing the rain to wash away the tears, the sweat, and the blood that caked his face. His robes, dirty and torn unchanged since his nightmarish tenure at Azkaban was already drenched.

"I didn't believe...you know _he told me...but I didn't want to believe." Harry's voice sounded soft and gentle like that of an angel...but the two knew it was temporary like the calm before the storm. Both knew who or what the he referred to and both knew better than to contest the unspoken and most certainly accurate accusation._

"Harry...please..." The girl croaked out a soft plea as she untangled herself from her *new* boyfriend, *new* love. Much to the amazement of her companion, she ventured from comforting arms and attempted to reach out only to stumble and fall into a muddy pool of water. 

The act finally caused Harry to act. The Azkaban escapee - even though he was innocent as Voldemort had gleefully pointed out – walked slowly and methodically to the foot of the girl. Harry bent down and gently stroked a piece of loose wet hair behind her ear as he had often done in the past. The girl trembled in fear and anticipation.

"So beautiful...you were always very pretty, Hermione. I called you my fallen angel..." Harry commented wistfully. Hermione couldn't help the blush spreading across her cheeks nor could she suppress the slight moan caught in her throat as she tilted her head offering the side of her neck to touch and pet.

"...but you are no longer my angel anymore are you..." It was not a question. Hermione looked up and the slight tremble gave way to involuntary quacks. Suddenly Hermione couldn't get away fast enough. Her boyfriend picked the frightened girl up and wrapped his shaking arms protectively around her.

Harry stared down emotionlessly at Hermione and then as his best friend aka her boyfriend. 

"...not, I suppose not..." Harry sighed but not a trace of anger flashed across his face. Instead, he seemed sad.

"Harry...please we can explain." Blurted out the red head without thinking. Harry arched his head with amusement.

"Can you Ron? Can you deny...this." Asked Harry wavering his hand casually at the intertwined duo. 

"…or do you even want to?" A taunting smirk fell across Harry's face. When Ron didn't respond with anger or a retort, Harry looked slightly disappointed and yet at the same time… impressed. 

There was no way for two to answer the question without lying or provoking a reaction and yet Harry refused to say another word. The deadly silence drew on...

Finally Hermione gave.

Already dirty and plagued with uncontrollable sobs, the girl threw herself before Harry, clinging on to his robes like a child. 

"Please, punish me...leave Ron out of this! He had nothing to do with it! He ... he was just there for me! I betrayed YOU! PLEASE!?" 

Harry was already lost to them. They, his family and friends, had killed him by sending an innocent man...no boy… to that atrocious place. But at least, she could try and save Ron even if she had to beg and gravel for forgiveness, for mercy, for leniency. Chances were slime but she had to try.

Harry gazed down with unnaturally coolness and detachment. A sludge pile clung to the otherwise pretty girl's face. Hermione had grown to be a remarkably beautiful young woman. _Harry doubted that Victor was the first to notice and neither (as events turned out) was he been the last...no matter how he had wished otherwise_. He hand went into his robes and slowly drew forth his wand. Hermione closed her eyes, awaiting for her fate, kneeling before the shadow of the man she loved...the man she destroyed. _There was without a doubt in her mind that she above all others inflicted the greatest pain upon Harry_.

"NO!" Hermione briefly registered Ron's outburst and felt the cold wave of a spell hurtling towards Harry. Physically exhausted and emotionally worn, Harry crumpled to the ground, his wand beside him.

"**_Expelliarmus_**!" With hardened determination, Hermione disarmed Ron much to the red head's dismay as he fell back in the mud. Laddened with mountain full of guilt, Hermione crawled to Harry and gently rolled him over. The girl thrust her own wand into Harry's hand with the tip pointing at her heart.

The Boy Who Lived smiled sadly back up at her and raised it... 

"**_Scourgify_**" The sludge on her face as well as the massive piles of mud suddenly disappeared from Hermione's face, hair and uniform. 

Harry shot the mystified Ron and Hermione a reassuring look and one o his old intoxicating smiles. It appears as if traces of the old kind and gentle Harry remained after all. But this time, the smile seemed strained as if it didn't quite belong there on his face.

Harry picked himself off the ground and helped Hermione up, giving the confused girl her wand back in the process. For a second, joy filled the teen's heart...maybe Harry would forgive them. Then Harry picked up Ron's wand and tossed it back to him.

"Finish it." It was a simple statement boarding along a command. But there was no sarcasm nor was there a sneer behind it. Ron looked confused, but Hermione caught on immediately... horrified at the thought. Harry smiled at his love's quick comprehension.

"There is no other way." 

"Yes there is..." Came the calm voice behind him. Harry didn't even bother to turn around. By now, Ron had caught on and was just as if not more shocked and shaken than Hermione.

"I will not, Harry." Croaked out the boy hoping to reach out to his best friend, former best friend.

"I see you need persuasion." Muttered Harry. Harry reached out and summoned his wand to him and twisted his hand so that the wand was pointed a couple of inches from Hermione's forehead. 

Ron's knuckles visibly turned white from gripping is wand so hard. Hermione sobbed, but not because she fear her own death but because of how Harry is trying to provoke them into killing him. 

"No, Harry. It doesn't have to end this way." Stated the voice from behind Harry once again. 

"That would only be if this was all a misunderstanding and I just jumped the gun." Harry eyed Ron and Hermione with a small sparkle of hope. After all, despite everything he would like to live and live with his friends and family at that.

Ron and Hermione debated within themselves...should they lie about how they feel about each other. No. No more lies.

"No, Ron and I... this isn't a one night thing..." Said Hermione. Ron gasped fearing the worst. Harry only sighed however. Hermione could see the last hope drain from is face.

"Voldemort told the truth. Imagine that." Harry let out a small chuckle in self amusement.

"See, Professor Dumbledore, there's no other way." Stated Harry addressing to the figure behind him. 

"Harry..." Started Dumbledore as he walked forward and around, but Harry cut him off. 

"I am sorry." Stated Harry simply. Professor Dumbledore seemed at a loss for words. Hermione was absolutely bewildered.

"What could you possibly be sorry for?" Harry gave her a knowing smile.

"I am sorry because if I was stronger, I could be happy for you and Ron and eventually allow the wounds to gradually heal. But I am not. **_The darkness already exists in me_." The last sentence seemed to strike fear in Harry himself. That alone frightened Hermione and Ron.**

"But you can beat it!" Protested Hermione.

"No, I can't. Don't you see!" For a moment Harry looked frantic now. Then, it was gone.

"You have no idea, none of you not even Dumbledore, of the power of the darkness. It's like an elixir or ambrosia, absolutely intoxicating. It spreads over you, ensnarls you and bends it to its will. Did you not think that Grindleward did not fight the darkness, at least in the beginning? Did you think Voldemort did not? Or any of the other dark lords. That's exactly what I will become if you do not kill me NOW... You see, I am losing this fight to the darkness." 

Hermione don't know how to respond. She looked to the aged wizard for guidance but found that the wizened mage was as uncertain and troubled as she was. Then, the old man's eyes twinkled for a second as if he has realized something.

"You are being selfish, Harry." Ron and Hermione looked stupefied. The pressure had finally sent Dumbledore over the edge. Harry, himself looked surprised and miffed at first. Then, he understood and shook his head in comprehension.

"I know I am selfish." Stated Harry with a soft smile. "Indeed, I would rather have my friends and family and even the love of my life wallow in perpetual guilt over my death than to live and experience similar guilt for having killed my loved ones. I am sorry." 

"That is unfortunate, Harry, but we can't allow you to throw your life away like that." Stated Albus Dumbledore. About a dozen Order Members and Ministry Aurors suddenly appeared. Harry gritted his teeth in slight frustration. 

"I am threatening a student. Are you ALL going to allow me to harm an innocent?" Asked Harry.

"You won't Harry." Stated Hermione, shocked at her own confidence. Harry looked at her, part of him wanting to prove her wrong, but the majority of him knowing otherwise. Harry lowered his wand and turned to Ron.

"Do you know what you would be doing to Hermione by not finishing me off?" Asked Harry.

"I would be not breaking her heart, Harry." 

"How naïve of all of you? How do you think I got out in the first place? Voldemort controlled Azkaban." Stated Harry with a small bitter laugh. The others knew what to expect as Harry raised his arm and pulled his sleeve back. 

There, imprinted on the skin was that hideous black mark. Hermione choked back a sob.

"There. So you would just have to toss me back to prison or have me executed. I think given the alternative, you would give pity and just be done with it so we are back where we started." Everyone gasped at how freely the young boy talked of his own death.

"No Harry, as I have said before. You will play a big role in the fate of the world even if you should choose the dark side this time. I know not what only that you can not simply throw your life away now. The consequences could be too great." 

"As great as the consequences of not killing me! Fools! Are you willing to forfeit all your lives to ME?" Asked Harry in desperation. He had not expected them to be so adamant in protecting him, after all, they did sent him to a fate worse than death in the first place. 

Suddenly Harry dropped to his knees. He called out...

"This is your last chance." Stated Harry scanning the crowd. 

"Very well, I pray that you do not live to regret your choice." Stated Harry harshly as a shadow passed over him. And then, he was gone leaving desolation and pain in his wakes.

FLASHBACK

Oh yes. They paid alright, all of them...Granger, Weasley, Dumbledore... 

And yet, the memories of their deaths bring back bitter self loathing rather than sweet happiness of revenge. 

He had WARNED them. He told them to finish him off. He told them what he would be like... and yet in their stupidity they ignored his warnings. They believed in his "goodness". 

A famous muggle saying crossed Harold's mind. "**There are two things that are infinite; the universe and human stupidity." **

And the sad part was, ultimate blame would always rest with Harold himself. Not even Voldemort could be blamed for this one no matter how much he wished to believe otherwise.

"My lord, are you alright? You seemed distracted." Asked Lancelot. Harold turned and saw that the couple was much more cheered now due to Morgan's efforts. 

"Yes, I was just thinking about my past." Morgan turned her head and looked at Harold with sympathy. Harold smiled back as if saying he was fine.

"After that day when you saved us as that creature, we never got the chance to thank you." Stated Quinevere. Harold pondered thoughtfully.

"There's one thing you can do to thank me." Stated Harold. Quinevere's eyes perked up. 

"Anything."

"Get married." The couple exchanged nervous looks. 

"But, even if we should have your and Morgan and even Arthur's personal blessing, this world would never condone it. No priest who ever consecrate our union and our family would live in shame." Explained Quinevere. 

"Normal concern, but it would not be too difficult to alter the events that have unfolded regarding you two. We could change the memories of the people involved so that you may very well live in peace in seclusion." Suggested Harold.

"How?"

"I am a powerful wizard, and so is Morgan. We are more than willing to assist you in this." Said Harold sincerely. Morgan nodded in agreement.

Still with some reluctance the couple finally agreed. To their joy both Harold and Morgan shot them wide grins and proceeded to congratulate them.

*****Two years later*****

Lord Harold Sebastian Slytherin walked to the front door of the small estate. It is a bit of a shock to one's system to see the former High Queen and the closest friend of the great King Arthur living such humble lives. 

No sooner had Harold knocked that he was ushered in and greeted with kisses and hugs by Quinevere and Lancelot. 

"You have not aged a day since I last seen you!" Exclaimed Quinevere. Harold laughed.

"The advantages of being a powerful and knowledgeable wizard. Agelessness can indeed be an asset." 

"How are you, my lord? And Morgan?" Asked Lancelot.

"No need of that here, dear Lancelot. Harold's fine. I have been well enough. I see that I can say the same for you as well." Stated Harold after giving the place an appraising look.

"And Morgan is well and wishes me to convey her greetings. I have heard that you have had a son." Stated Harold. Quinevere and Lancelot shared a million watt smile with each other. 

"It was simply a miracle. After all these years of being barren. Are you sure that you did not bless us somehow?" Asked Quinevere with wonder and admiration. Harold laughed.

"Ah, yes, I am quite sure and so is Morgan. It appears that the gods have finally granted you your wish, my dear." 

"Indeed, and we have you and Morgan to thank for this joy." Said Lancelot. For the first time in a long while, Harold Sebastian Slytherin looked away sheepishly at the praise. Quinevere took the opportunity to retrieve the infant and held it to Harold to hold. 

Looking shocked, but immensely pleased and honored, Harold accepted the infant and cuddled him in his arms.

"Whether you believe or not. It was our pleasure. We might not be able to find such true happiness, but at least, we can live vicariously from your happiness. And this little fellow made it all worthwhile." Said Harold. His face was beaming as he returned the infant.

"What's his name?" 

"Gwydion, in honor of Arthur." Harold smiled. The name could not be more appropriate. 

"And we decided to give him a different last name." Stated Lancelot.

"What? Why?" 

"My name is still shamed as is Quinevere's and attributed with Avalon, which is viewed with distain. We decided to name after the person who made all this possible." Both looked at Harold.

"Me?!" Exclaimed Harold with bulging eyes. 

"In a matter of speaking, but not Slytherin. Your name also has a long history and Morgan has said that only you can bestow the honor of your last name on those you deem worthy. So we couldn't exactly do that, but we wished to honor you in some way. Quinevere, perhaps you would like to explain." Stated Lancelot. He could feel Harold edging with anticipation. 

"I suddenly remembered the day you saved us as that beautiful creature. One of the names you gave for it was Griffin d'Or, I believe. So, we decided to call him **Gryffindor**, Gwydion Gryffindor." 

_Gryffindor_...Harold was speechless as his mind screamed at the implication. He stared at the infant with open astonishment. This was the very ancestor of Godric Gryffindor. Of this, he was sure. 

Harold remained dazed for several minutes. The married couple thought they had done something wrong.

"Do you not like the name, my lord?" A slight panic was in Quinevere's voice. Harold immediately shook his head.

"No, it's a lovely name. I, I could not be more honored. I was just wowed." Stated Harold. The couple sighed a sigh of relief, glad they had not disrespected their guest. 

"There is also another thing. Morgan suggested we speak with you. Gwydion seems to be displaying some magical talent." 

Harold was impressed. 

"I would train him myself, but alas, I won't remain here for long. This is perhaps my last visit here in this time. No doubt Morgan would take him herself." 

"Indeed, she has promised to do so if her life sustain her until then, but we were wondering if you could 'mark' him?" Asked Quinevere. 

"As in with my blood..." Asked Harold. 

"Yes, we hope that someday in your own time if possible, our descendant might be able to assist you and repay part of the debt we owe to you. It's the least that we could do."  

Harold was now definitely floored. This would mean Godric Gryffindor, THE _Godric Gryffindor_ would be one of his clients... under his protection and authority... 

...It took the better part of the rest of the day to prepare and complete the marking ceremony. 

When, Harold finally left late that night bidding Quinevere and Lancelot good night, jumbled mixes of thoughts crossed his mind. It would be a long while before he get over what has happened today.

A long time indeed...

Days later, after a semi-tearful goodbye with Morgan and then shaking hands with his enemy/comrade Merlin, Harold bit them goodbye and stepped through the portal of time, leaving this time period forever. The lessons he learned and gave however would remain for generations to come, shaping the very destinies and histories of countless people and events.

************************************************************************

**There are two things that are infinite; the universe and human stupidity** – This is a semi-famous actual historical quote. Can anyone guess who said it? 

Not sure how good the writing was, but I thought the plot was pretty good. This part of the story ends there. I might recycle the characters. 


End file.
